save [joshler]

introduction

Tyler's pov

Oh, hey! I didn't see you there. Um, my name's Tyler. Tyler Robert Joseph. I'm 23, and I'm in an abusive relationship.

I'll start from the beginning.

I met Brendon when I was a junior. I was barely 17 and he was 20. He was really sweet, and maybe I was just a dumb; naive 17 year old boy but I fell for him. Pretty quickly.

It didn't take long before we started dating, my mom was a big fan of him. They bonded quickly and it made me happy to know that. My guy and my mom getting along? That's almost unheard of.

When I graduated high school, Brendon proposed the idea of living together. He had his own house as he was 21 and I was just fresh out of high school. I brought it up to my mom and she didn't like the idea at first but after a few weeks of convincing she got on board.

It was great. I loved living with him at first. Every single day was fun and full of love and laughter. It was always romantic, he would buy me flowers out of the blue, he would show up at my work with a surprise lunch, when I came home on late nights he always had the tub full and waiting for me. It was amazing.

Then things just...quickly became unhinged. He would come home from work and slam back beers and slam doors. It escalated to yelling at me for stupid things I did and throwing stuff all over the house. When he started hitting the walls, I had to learn how to repair them quickly. We ran through so much money just buying the same shade of paint.

Then he started hitting me. The first time was...it was just horrible. For the both of us. The look on his face when he realized what he'd done, it runs through my head all the time. But soon after, it was a constant thing. The slaps turned into punches, punches turned into kicking.

The um, the sexual harassment started soon after. He'd make disgusting remarks about me around our friends and family; he'd make inappropriate gestures in public. He'd blatantly call me horrible names when talking to strangers. Then the remarks turned physical.

In normal relationships, you want your significant other to make it known you two are together. Whether it be hand holding in public, some pda or even smacking each other's butts. But in this relationship, it felt forced. Not like, like it needed to happen, but if I  didn't let him hold my hand a little too tight, or hit my butt a little too hard, he'd get angry. He'd bring it home with us, and I'd get punished.

It slowly turned from that to holding me hostage. He'd lock me in our room for hours on end. He'd take the keys to my car so I couldn't leave. He smashed my phone and I haven't been able to buy another since.

Now that I was locked home everyday, he didn't seem to be concerned about the marks he'd leave. He always made it clear he didn't care. At this point, he's cornering me and slamming me against walls by my throat.

He took it up a notch. Decided he loves it when I tell him no. When I beg and plead him to stop. He told me that he dreams about it, about hearing me break. He said he loves feeling that kind of power.

My body is full of physical and spiritual scars, I pray every day to whatever God is out there to help me; but I don't think they care.